


Long Distance

by Lovejoy



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Chocolate Box Treat, Established Relationship, In Public, Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-24 22:29:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17712836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovejoy/pseuds/Lovejoy
Summary: He never should have accepted the call.





	Long Distance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FleetSparrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetSparrow/gifts).



An incoming video message popped up silently in the corner of his screen.

Kaiba declined the call and opened their chat window.

`Not right now, Mokuba,` he typed, fingers moving silently over the keyboard. `I’m in a meeting.`

`I know. I have your schedule. Let me listen in.`

This time, when the call came, Kaiba accepted it. He pushed one of his unobtrusive wireless earpieces into his left ear and switched the volume back on.

The call sprang up as a small video in the corner of his monitor.

It was 9:14 PM in New York. Mokuba was in his hotel room, lit by the warm light from the bedside lamp and the faint blue glow from his laptop monitor. His suit jacket was off, the tie loosened; the top three buttons of his dress shirt were undone, revealing a tempting slice of tanned skin. The curl of his mouth was familiar, mischievous.

Kaiba gave him a flat look and a small shake of his head. Mokuba was insatiable. `I know what you’re doing. I’m hanging up.`

“Don’t,” Mokuba said softly. He slid his tie off the rest of the way. The deepened timbre of his voice seeped down Kaiba’s spine to his gut, molten. “Please. I miss you, nii-sama. Don’t you miss me?”

Kaiba’s eyes flicked up. Noguchi, one of his project managers, was using a laser pointer to highlight a Crystal Cloud Network dataset Kaiba had seen a hundred times already. His attention could afford to wander for a few stolen moments.

`Yes,` he typed. `Every second.`

In the small window, Mokuba smiled, pleased, and rose up on his knees on the bed. The fabric of his suit trousers stretched tight over his thighs, and, Kaiba immediately saw, the prominent erection straining against his fly.

Kaiba’s stomach gave a dull jolt.

`Mokuba…`

Mokuba smoothed a hand over the obscene bulge and breathed out a little sigh.

“Wish you were here,” he murmured, closing his eyes in distinct pleasure. “Miss you so much. I hate being away from you. This stupid merger is taking way too long.”

He said it every time, and often more than once— _I miss you, I miss you, I miss you_ —but Kaiba never tired of hearing it. He watched, transfixed, as Mokuba’s fingers teased lightly over the curve of his trapped cock, never lingering too long. Warmth licked at his insides and constricted his throat. He remembered vividly the last time they had been together: Mokuba’s weight over his back, one hand tangled in his hair; hips rolling, perfect, playful; blunt teeth scraping gently along Kaiba’s spine. It had been three weeks ago, just before Mokuba had left for his extended business trip to the States. Too long.

His fingers hovered, clawed, over the keyboard.

`I know. I can’t stand it.`

Mokuba unbuttoned and unzipped; his cock slid deep into the vice of his fist. The sight was dizzying. It felt like Mokuba had jammed a hook into his gut and was yanking on it with each slow, tortuous stroke. Heat pooled like magma between his legs. His vision began to tunnel, blinkered. He forced himself to split his awareness. He couldn’t allow Mokuba to monopolize his attention in the middle of a meeting.

In his ear, Mokuba gasped; on video, his head fell back. His throat, long and bare, looked unbearably appetizing. The red marks Kaiba had once sucked into his skin had long since faded.

“It’s just not _fair,_ ” Mokuba groaned. “I need you, nii-sama, please—”

`I’m right here.`

Mokuba moaned. Kaiba watched his cock twitch, flushed a deep red, glossy with pre-come; his own throbbed in empathy, hard against his thigh.

It was too much. His mind was beginning to cloud over. All he could think about was running his lips over his little brother’s cock, giving him whatever he wanted, anything to make him feel good, to make him happy; his mouth, his hands, anything, everything.

He forced his gaze away from the video call, listening instead, but that wasn’t much better: Mokuba’s little hitching gasps, the slick sounds of his fist slipping over himself, were maddeningly present. He never should have accepted the call. The base urge to relieve the pressure in his groin was severe, but he refused to move, staring sightlessly at the reams of data behind Noguchi’s head. He kept his hands where they were, resting flat and stiff on top of the conference table.

“Look at me, nii-sama,” Mokuba whispered, strained. “Please. I’m so close. I want you to see.”

Kaiba’s stomach flipped. He was powerless to resist. He looked back just in time to watch Mokuba’s hips stutter and kick forward into his fist. He gave a long, sinfully low moan, fucking his hand in short, jerky strokes. Come spurted out over his knuckles and dripped onto the sheets.

“Mokuba,” Kaiba murmured involuntarily, mesmerized by the sight.

“Ah—sorry, what was that, Kaiba-shachou?”

Kaiba ripped his eyes away from the screen. It was like refocusing a blurry lens. Reality sharpened and solidified. Everyone’s heads had turned to look at him—but their gazes were all curious, some afraid, none suspicious or condemning. In an instant, he recalled what Noguchi had been speaking about—enough, at least, to form an intelligent reply.

“I said, implement it,” he said smoothly, forcing the gravel from his voice. Mokuba was half-panting, half-laughing in his ear. “I want it done in time for the showcase next week.”

“Yes, sir,” Noguchi said, a little apprehensively. “Of course.”

Once the room’s attention had shifted away, he typed, `You’ll pay for that.`

“You promise?” Mokuba purred. He was grinning like the cat that ate the canary. Sweat had plastered his hair to his forehead. He ran a hand through the dark strands, pushing it back out of his eyes. The pink, satisfied flush to his cheeks was clearly visible, even in the dim lighting. He was so beautiful. Kaiba’s chest ached. He longed to touch him again, to taste the sweat on his skin.

“Love you, nii-sama. I’ll call in the morning. Well, this evening, for you.” Mokuba’s grin widened. “Then it’ll be your turn.”

Kaiba gave the camera a small, private smile. Saying _I love you_ —or typing it—was still too much, sometimes. But Mokuba knew. `Don’t count on it. Sleep well.`

“I will.” Mokuba blew him a kiss, leaned forward, and disconnected the call.


End file.
